Summer's Rising
by Hasriona 2014
Summary: Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny spend a lazy summers day down by the riverside, but a certain intervention from a specific lady leads them to think about getting away for a holiday together.


When I think back at this summer, I don't think about what I've done, what I've shared or what I've experienced in the slightest. When I think back over that week in the blooms of the south-west, I only reflect over the change which occurred in those infinitesimal, precious weeks of unadulterated liberty.

I went into the trip as a boy, albeit a boy full of the dread of war, loss, pain and memories that could burden even the most optimistic and carefree of men, and I came out as a completely different person; a free man.

Never once had I been truly free, and now I am. The feeling is strange, alien, but I find it unquestionably welcome for someone who has been locked in fate and prophecy for seventeen years. It's refreshing to be able to breathe without worry on each breath, and to be able to think without trepidation on a mere thought.

It seems like a million years ago, when the Earth was much younger and less mature than it has become, when I stood in the palm of fate, moulded like clay by the fingers of that divisive temptress. I thought the journey away from fate would take years, perhaps decades, that my life would be devoted to that one inevitable journey. Perhaps that's what fate had in store for me, but maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she felt sympathetic for me, a boy tortured with perpetual trouncing at the hands of evil. She may have decided, compassionately, to give me life beyond the war. Now I had it.

I never thought that I'd have what anyone would call a normal life. I thought my life would be devoted to the legend of my scar, to the secrets behind it, and to what the Prophecy had declared. When fate let go I found myself scared of what would happen next, but, deep down, I felt a sense of assurance when I remembered the mere name of the one person who could help me out of my old life, and into the sunrise, a new dawn, a new existence.

Ginny.

Ginny, my girlfriend from a millennia ago, the one person who got me through the ruthless Horcrux hunt just from the simple thought of her. After what we shared this summer, I now feel that I will never be able to live without her.

She was my medicine, sweet but never unpleasant, settling warm in my stomach. She helped me in those months after the war, and I helped her. I began to change then, in the months of the aftermath, and it seemed like a different version of myself was replacing the poignant one of the past.

My head was clear of everything that had filled it before. The horrors of the past were becoming distant memories, a lost dream, or, better put, a lost nightmare that was floating away in my head, the edges blurring and the colours smudging.

Those few months after the battle were very strange. Commiserations mixed with celebrations to form a muddy emotional palette, which I had to paint my new life with. May turned into June as if May never existed; Fred was buried, as was Snape, and so many others. I didn't know how many souls had been lost that night, but I knew that none of them died in vain. They died for the continuity of freedom, and love, and joy, and they shall always be remembered as those who gave their lives so the future generations could be free of tyranny and persecution. As one famous plaque once said, long ago, "Remember them not for how they died, but for those ideals for which they lived".

June was a blur of ginger and green for me, but the significance of life began to become distinctively clear soon afterward, as if I had awoken into the real world.

August was the month in which everything changed. A holiday, a simple holiday, is all what it took for me to fully realise what I had been given. In a simple week I experienced more joy than I had experienced in the whole of my life, and I was reborn. The old Harry, the scar, the names, the legacy, died in that week, as far as I care. The media can continue to masquerade the dead body as their centrepiece, but my friends and I see only the new me, the one born in delight and happiness, and not death and Prophecy.

A simple road trip showed me the light, and now I bathe in that instead of the usual shower of darkness. I sit here now, refreshed and renewed, awaiting September's imminent arrival, when everything will change again. I guess the best times in life are the breaths of status quo between one massive change and the next, with the major exception of the holiday, where the greatest change in my life invoked the greatest delight.

I sit here now, recollecting my thoughts over the past few weeks with a smile on my lips.

I sit here now, reflecting over that week in Cornwall, in my utterly life changing road trip.

* * *

><p>The sound of birdsong reverberated from somewhere in the recesses of my head. It was pleasant to listen to, like listening to a lovesong, and eventually this chitchatter gave me enough conscience to open my eyes.<p>

I immediately saw ginger, ginger everywhere. I was buried in Ginny's glorious hair, breathing in her soft scent whilst her chest rose and fell with each of her own gentle breaths. The light peeking in from behind the nearest curtain reflected gaily off her face, making it appear dazzling and sublime.

I wanted to capture that moment and bottle it, so as to cherish the picture of her forever. It didn't matter that I could wake up to see her in her purest state every morning for the rest of our lives; I just knew that on this one, pleasant morning, what I saw was unique in every respect.

I moved my hands, wrapping them snugly around her smooth back, and kissed her head. I wanted to drift off to sleep again with her in my arms, regardless of the time, but the light from behind the curtain was too bright for me to even contemplate sleep.

I looked at the clock which hung opposite the bed; half eight. I knew that I had to be up to see Ron at nine, but I could barely move from the comfort of her bed. I knew the only possible way for me to get up was if Ginny shagged me to pieces, but I didn't have the heart to disturb her from her slumber.

As if responding to my thoughts, Ginny's soft body began to stir in earnest, and a sleepy groan escaped her lips. Her eyes remained closed, but her arms moved across my back as if silently saying 'good morning'. I returned the same movements, like communicating in sign language, and within a couple of minutes she opened her eyes.

"Mmm...hey..." she whispered lightly, her voice gravelly with sleep, pulling her hair out of her eyes.

"Morning, Gin..." I whispered, giving her a soft kiss.

"God, was it a late night or something? I feel like shit..." she groaned, rubbing her eyes with a sleepy grimace.

"Yeah. I think there was a lot of Firewhisky as well...I mean a fuck load..." I said, and she groaned in reminiscence.

"I must have had a fucking barrel of it...bloody hell that stuff is strong..." she moaned.

"I...er...think we may have gotten a bit carried away in other respects last night..." I said, as I suddenly realized, somehow going unnoticed, that we were both...predisposed...and in the wrong place.

"Are we naked?" she asked, a half-expectant grimace on her face.

"Yeah..."

"Shit..."

"This isn't good..."

It wasn't as much a surprise to either of us to be stark naked in bed, but to be naked together in bed in the Burrow, a house usually full to capacity with a meddlesome mother and bothersome brothers, was pretty much suicide.

"I think I'll get some clothes on..." I said, rather urgently, hopping out of bed to the rather appreciative eyes of Ginny.

"Can't you just give me a shag now, then put your clothes on?" she implored as I stood up.

"I would, but if any of your brothers catch me, I'm as good as dead..." I said, fishing for underwear in the mountain of clothes sprawled across the floor, no doubt formed during the inebriated rush of the previous night. I eventually found some underwear and I was putting it on, when a knock at the door catapulted me into the bed, somehow tripping over my own boxers. I landed face first into Ginny's chest.

"Oi!" said Ginny, laughing, pushing me off.

"Ginny, are you in there?" came the voice of Hermione from behind the door.

"Yeah...I'm in here..." called Ginny, whilst I straightened himself and ducked back into the covers.

"I was just wondering where Harry is...Ron's been trying to find him all morning..."

"I'm here..." I said, ensuring I was totally covered.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, peeking her head around the door incredulously. "What are you doing in here?"

"Er...long story...you know, Firewhisky..." I murmured.

"Bloody hell, Harry, you know what that stuff does to you..." said Hermione, frowning down at me. "You're naked, aren't you?"

"I've got pants on..."

"As if a pair of pants will stop Ron and Bill killing you..."said Hermione seriously.

"What they don't know wont hurt them, or me...I hope..." I said. Hermione raised her eyebrows, and then turned to Ginny.

"So, Ginny... how much clothing have_ you _got on?" she asked.

"Umm...well... nothing..." said Ginny, blushing slightly. "I guess we were both majorly pissed..."

"I think so too. God, Gin, if your mum saw you like this she'd get you a chastity belt...and then castrate you, Harry..."

I laughed. I wouldn't put it past Molly...her skills with a knife are quite impressive.

"What does Ron want anyway?" asked Ginny.

"Something about the paparazzi. Apparently there's a large mob of journalists outside the barriers. He wants to do some _target _practice with you, Harry..."

"I'm all for that." I said, smiling at the prospect. "Those damn photographers just don't understand privacy...ooh, I'd love to hex Rita Skeeter..."

The aforementioned scumbug Skeeter had made a remarkable return into the world of the journalism, mainly from the unauthorized autobiography she wrote about me; most of Europe and half of America had clamoured for a copy, effectively making her a intercontinental superstar in her own right.

"Frankly, I'd join you two, but I'm sure hexing journalists wont impress any employers. I mean, they look at criminal records and behaviour reports and everything..." said Hermione, sitting down on the end of Gin's bed.

"And what exactly have you got to worry about Miss Perfect Prefect?" scoffed Ginny.

"I've gotten mixed up with a troll, I've gone against a three headed dog, I've time travelled against regulations, I've set up an illegal organisation with the intentions of practicing defensive magic, I've been on the run with Mr Potter here, a man who had a ten thousand galleon price on his head, and I fought against thousands of evil magical creatures in a battle which tore Hogwarts apart! I've got quite a lot to worry about, Ginny!"

"But you did all that with good intentions..." I pressed.

"Why are you getting worried about employment now? You're going back to Hogwarts in September, not joining the Ministry."

"Yeah, but in these newborn times, it's always wise to think of the future..."

"I suppose..." I said.

"All I want to think about is when Harry's next gonna shag me..." said Ginny brashly.

"Well, if you're gonna do that, don't do it in this house! That would be the final straw for Ron and the others! They still think you two are virgins!"

"Really? Despite the fact I sleep in Grimmauld Place with Harry every frigging night they are still under the impression that I'm a virgin?"

"I sleep with Ron every night, Gin, but it doesn't mean that we shag every night..."

"_Have_ you shagged him?"

She faltered for a second.

"No...actually..."

"Really?"

"I'm just waiting for the right time...when he stops being so pushy..."

"Shag him already..." I pressed, playing with the buttons on the duvet. "He's been nagging me for tips on how to seduce you for weeks..."

"Has he really? I guess that book of his doesn't have any sexual hints in it..." she said thoughtfully.

"Nah, it's only goes as far as light romance..." I said.

"Nevertheless, its been useful. It's transformed him from a slob to an acceptable gentleman in weeks..."

The book had been a present from Molly when she discovered that Ron and Hermione were dating and he was trying, with little success, to be a charming boyfriend. The book was a more developed sequel to the book I had received from Ron on my seventeenth birthday, which I still occasionally browsed for the general know-how on how girls work.

"Gentleman or not, he's still as horny as hell..." said Ginny.

"Yeah, well, I'm not expecting complete miracles here..."

Ginny laughed.

"He is a Weasley, after all..." I said, smiling at Ginny.

"Yeah, Weasley to the core; hungry and horny. It's genetic. Even mum was horny, hence my six brothers..." said Ginny.

"I just thought that was a lack of contraception..." said Hermione. It was well known the Weasley seniors either disliked or had no idea of the existence of contraception – magic or otherwise.

"A bit of both, really..." said Ginny.

"Speaking of your brothers, you both best get fully dressed before any of them see you like this..." said Hermione seriously.

"Fine, fine..." I said. "We'll skip the shag 'till later..." I said.

"I don't see what the problem is. Harry's got pants on..."

"Gin, come on, you know how much your brothers overreact. Remember, last week, they saw you two kissing on the dining room table and thought that Harry was raping her..."

"They were joking..." I said, although I did remember that there wasn't a certain urgent look in their eyes.

"Really? Were they also joking when they tried to wrestle you the other night, all because you had your hands down Ginny's trousers?"

"All right, all right, I admit, they _do _overreact a little..." I said, cynically remembering the occasion.

"Then maybe you should think about getting dressed..." she said.

"Yeah, all right then..." I said, stretching my arms above my head.

"I'll be downstairs when you two are ready. I'll try and keep Ron distracted in the meantime..."

"Just promise him sex and food and he'll be your lapdog..." said Ginny.

"He already is..." said Hermione, with a grin, before stepping out onto the landing and closing the door.

"Is that the key to any Weasley?" I asked, grinning.

She nuzzled me, and whispered, "Give me a grilled cheese and a shag and I'll love you forever..."

I laughed.

"I can give you half that right now..."

"Mmm...stuff the grilled cheese..." she whispered huskily as I rolled on top of her. She was always like this in the mornings, a perk which I was beginning to unequivocally enjoy, to see the passion in everyone of her features whilst the morning light shone dazzlingly off her gorgeous body. Her long, red hair would bounce off her freckled skin when she would vocal her pleasure like a wild animal, enthralling both our senses in a heavenly climax of body, warmth and softness.

Hermione was right in her warnings of getting dressed. Although Ginny and I were happy with what we were doing in the bedroom, we knew that Ginny's brothers and parents would absolutely kill us if they knew. A part of me perpetually wondered whether or not we "did it" to early, but it had felt right.

I remember the day so vividly, not just because of the first time we shared in those hours, but because it had been a radiant time in mid-June with all reminders of the war and Voldemort wiped from my mind.

Ginny and I had spent the whole day alone together in one of the fields adjacent to the Burrow, nestled deep within the rolling hills of fresh perfection which surrounded us. The day was green, more green than I ever thought possible. The trees swayed in the most gentle Summer winds, wafting the smell of fresh hydrangeas and forget-me-nots between the foliage, seducing us both, as if nature herself was setting the scene for a romantic escapade.

Ginny, beautiful as ever, had laid back on the thick grass, alluring smile on her lips as I reached down and kissed her soft mouth. She responded with all the enthusiasm which came with love, resting her hands on my shoulders and intertwining her legs with mine.

When the inevitable sunset brought darkness onto our blissful day, it seemed that we had carried some of that enthusiasm for love back into the Burrow. We'd gotten carried away, not to the extent that we'd we would be foolish enough to conduct ourselves in the Burrow, but we still lost our sense of age and readiness.

We had apparated to what I suppose I can consider my permanent house, Grimmauld Place, and banished Kreacher (in the nicest possible way) so as to maintain pure unadulterated secrecy. My bedroom formed the arena for our first time, and we slept together the following night for the first time; usually, she'd sleep in the Burrow, and I'd sleep in Grimmauld Place. I don't think Ginny's parents know that it happened and is still happening, but I get the feeling that Ron has got suspicions on the possibility, due to the fact he regularly checks up on Ginny at seven in the morning to make sure she is actually there, but Gin and I have a special system which gets her back to the Burrow at half-five.

I don't regret that night. Although I sometimes wonder whether it was too soon after the battle, and if Ginny was too young to loose her virginity, I remembered the words Kingsley had said after the battle of Hogwarts:

"Love will form the fortifications of this new world just as the new bricks will fill the cracks of this castle. Dumbledore always pressed how love was the most powerful form of magic, and we will take his words of wisdom forward into this new era, and

If I could go back in time to when I was a different person, when I had to wanted to die and escape the torment of my life (just four months ago, in fact), I would tell my past self one special, consecrated fact to truly make life worth living and justify continued existence in the land of the living, and that is waking up to see Ginny every morning. Nothing brings more joy to me than sharing some blissful, private moments every dawn with her, and I felt warm inside knowing the fact that I could spend a lifetime doing it.

Summer was our season, I just knew it. Although, ironically, we'd only been together for a Summer at Hogwarts and a Summer at the Burrow, I just knew the Summer was ours. Ginny loves the Summer, and I love it because it makes her happy and relaxed, the sun always kissing her face with freckles; I'd given up trying to count them.

But I hop I'd have a lifetime to try again.

**William Shakespeare's Sonnet 18**

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  
>Thou art more lovely and more temperate.<br>Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
>And summer's lease hath all too short a date.<br>Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
>And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;<br>And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
>By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;<br>But thy eternal summer shall not fade  
>Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;<br>Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
>When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:<br>So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,  
>So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.<p>

"Bloody hell, guys!" came an urgent Hermione from the door. "I told you to get up, and quick! Your fricking mum is halfway up the stairway, Ginny! Harry, get some clothes on!"

"Shit!" I exclaimed, literally leaping off Ginny and onto the mountain of clothes subtended on the floor.

"Are you sure she's gonna come in here?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know, but don't risk it! Get dressed, Harry, quickly!"

"Can't you see that's what I'm doing?"

"Very clearly..." said Hermione, rolling her eyes as I bent over to grab my trousers. Thank goodness I had those pants on after all, or Hermione would have been very shocked.

"Go distract her!" emphasized Ginny.

"Ok, I'll try..." said Hermione, and left.

"Harry, maybe you should apparate to your place and get dressed there..." said Ginny as I pulled my trousers on with great speed.

"No point. If she's halfway up the stairs she'll hear me disapparating, and she'll assume, with her cunning Weasley mind, that it's me making a great escape..."

"God, you're hot..." she murmured as I slid on my top in a rush.

"Ginny! This is hardly the time!"

"Sorry babe..."

"Socks...where are my socks?" I asked, scanning the floor.

"Here, Harry..." she said, pulling back the covers slightly to reveal the black pair sandwiched into the nook of the bed.

"Ah, thanks Gin..." I said, pulling them out.

"...that's a lovely blouse you're wearing Mrs Weasley, where did you get that from?"

"Louis and Gertworder, it's this lovely new shop in Diagon Alley selling all these lovely things..."

"Ooh, tell me more!"

"I will, love, just let me check on Ginny. She's usually up by now, I hope she's not becoming idle now that she's dating Harry..."

"Maybe she had a little too much to drink last night at the party..."

"I certainly hope not. Alcohol doesn't agree with her..."

"Well, maybe we should leave her alone, you know, maybe she just needs some peace and quiet..."

"I'll just check that she's alright..."

I knew I only had seconds, and despite the fact that I was now fully clothed, it still felt rather awkward, as if it appeared to be very apparent that I'd just pulled clothes on very hastily. I'd have to be more believable...but how? What could I do to make my presence in her room as innocent as possible?

And then I saw an interesting cover in the form of a an upturned book; surely, it would look completely innocence to be reading a simple book on Ginny's bed? As the doorknob turned, I reached and grabbed the book, turning it to a random page and feigning the pretence that I was deeply absorbed with its contents.

"Harry...dear, hello..." said Mrs Weasley, clearly surprised. Hermione hung behind her, an anxious expression on her face.

"Hi, Molly..." I said, innocuously turning the page.

"Morning, mum..." said Ginny.

"If you can call it morning..." said Molly austerely. "It's nearly eleven, missy..."

"Sorry, Molly, that's my fault," I said, inventing an alibi. "We were talking and reading and we lost track of the time..."

She looked at the book in my hands.

"That's the book on wild horses I got Ginny two years ago. I had no idea you were interested in that Harry..."

"Oh yeah, that's me, I like horses..." I said with a nervous laugh.

"Really? I never met a boy who was remotely interested in such a thing..."

I could tell, through the rather piercing look in her eye, that she was suspecting something. I could almost her mind whir furiously, deducing every little piece of evidence in front of her so as to come to satisfying conclusion.

"Weren't you wearing that top yesterday, Harry?" asked Molly curiously.

"This? Umm...yes, I think I was..." I said. She certainly seemed on the ball this morning.

"Well, maybe I should take you to Louis and Gertworder, I was just telling Hermione about it. Their male clothes are really nice; I've already gotten Ron and Arthur something special..."

"Yeah, that sounds really good, Molly..."

"Well, then, I'll leave you to your horses. I'll tell Ron that I've found you, Harry. He's been looking for you all morning, for some reason..."

"Thanks, Molly..."

She left, and Hermione came bounding in with a relaxed smile.

"That went quite well..." she said.

"She suspected something, Hermione..." I said.

"Well that's just mothers intuition..." said Hermione. "And, frankly, you didn't make it any easier for yourself by pretending to read that book..."

"But you read books all the time, and Molly thinks you're a sweet, idle-tempered, mature girl, so I thought the pretence must work all round..."

"Well, the main point of the matter is that I _am _a sweet, idle-tempered, mature girl!"

"Hermione, come on..." I insisted. "Need I mention that night in mid-June when you and Ron were quite disposed-"

"Shut it, Harry!" she exclaimed. "That was just a one-off, it doesn't change anything!"

"I never knew you could do such things with a ruler and gaffer tape..."

"Shut up!"

Ginny giggled, whilst Hermione looked on sternly.

"Honestly, I don't know what you two were doing snooping up on us anyway..." said Hermione, arms folded.

"Well we saw Ron with the ruler and tape and we wondered what the fuck he was doing, so we followed him..."

"Hilarity ensued..." I said, smiling.

She rolled her eyes.

"Back to the point," she pressed, reminding me of Molly's demeanour, "I think that, if ever the situation arises again, think of something more useful than a book. Especially a book about horses..."

"Ok, ok, but at least she's gone now so it's all worked out..."

"You said she suspected something..."

"Yeah, but suspicions can be ignored, unlike facts..."

"She wont ignore something like this..."

"She should be more concerned about how her youngest son and his girlfriend are getting kinky behind her back..."

"Oh will you shut up about that!"

"Shut up about what?" asked a new voice from the door. It was Ron, wearing what looked like a Chudley Cannon blazer and gripping his wand fervently.

"Oh nothing..." said Hermione quickly; clearly Ron had no idea we knew about that escapade of theirs.

"Harry, finally I found you! Let's get down to the barriers and hex those bastards!" he said enthusiastically.

I grinned, not just because of the prospect of some wand-action, but mainly because he was completely oblivious to the scene which lay before him, even completely unaware that Ginny was naked in bed.

"I'll be right with you..." I said. I grabbed my wand from the bedside table, another peculiarity which Ron didn't register, and hopped of the bed.

"You two don't cause too much trouble!" remarked Hermione.

"It will all be for a good cause, Hermione, don't worry..." joked Ron.

We headed out into the landing, sunlight steaming in from the high window, promising a good day.

"Where've you been all morning, mate?" he asked. "With Gin?"

"Yeah, we were talking mostly..." I said, trying to cover up any suspicions he might have secretly had.

"About what?"

"Well, you know, boyfriend-girlfriend things..."

He gave me a weird look.

"So, journalists are here, are they? How many?" I said, abruptly, changing the subject.

"Uh, about twenty of them, I think. Stuck at the barriers of course, but that doesn't stop them trying to get through..." he said. Ron had taken a special hatred of the journalists ever since they gatecrashed Fred's funeral, insensitively probing the Weasley's for interviews. It had caused Molly to break down in tears and it got Ron and Bill so mad they, completely forgetting the medium of magic, attacked the journalists in a full-on fight. It wasn't how a funeral should ever be, but I personally think that Fred would shed a smile from the afterlife if he saw how Bill gave one reporter a roaring half-nelson.

"Idiots..." said Ron. I think he was thinking about the funeral as well.

"Yeah..."

We stepped out into the near-midday sunshine. The day was beautiful, with the trees swaying in a very light breeze and the sound of birdsong surrounding us. Flowers were in full bloom, scattered colourfully around the lush grass surrounding the Burrow. I could smell barbeque, and the sticky smell of forget-me-nots in the air, but one thing which stood out most of all was the sight advancing towards us from the gravel path.

The alligator-skinned handbag was one feature, but the sickly red lipstick, black stilettos and green tipped fingernails were other features which defined this most ghastly person. I heard Ron give an angry outburst, and I saw her red lips grin nastily, her eyes gleaming with the promise of her latest scoop.

"Harry Potter! It's about time! The Boy Who Lived certainly wants to become The Boy Who Hides..." she said silkily.

It was Rita Skeeter.

"What do you want, Skeeter?" spat Ron.

"Nothing with you, sweetie, that I can say. Ever since the funeral of your dear brother you've left my best three photographers in crutches..."

"You shouldn't have come!"

"I had every right to. Wizarding freedom of expression and all that..."

"I bet you've come to make use of another freedom, haven't you? Freedom of press..." I said harshly.

She smiled again, baring all her shiny teeth.

"You can put it like that..."

"How did you get past the barriers?" asked Ron incredulously, "They're supposed to keep out riffraff like you!"

"Don't you mean rogue Death Eaters?" she asked curiously, a quick-quotes quill suddenly materialising in her bony hand.

"Well, its supposed to keep out anyone we don't want in..." said Ron. "That includes you..."

"Charming. I've come all this way to see dear Harry, and I get greeted so poorly by the present company. He's the talk of the town at the minute, dear boy, don't you understand that? Witches and wizards across the world want to know even more about him and I'm the one who's going to satiate their demand..."

"Fat chance, Skeeter. Surely, that unauthorized book you wrote about me has all the details they could ever want..." I said.

"Well, that's the problem with unauthorized autobiographies, the information is a little vague and insubstantial. Just one little interview with you, Harry, could keep them off your back forever..."

"Making you even more famous in the process..."

"Well, we should both reap some benefits from it..."

"I'd never do anything of the sort anyway, Skeeter. You're just a piece of horrible scum trying to get rich and famous off one of the greatest tragedies ever to have happened to our world..."

"You mean the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"Yes, of course I mean the Battle of Hogwarts!"

"_Potter states the Battle of Hogwarts is the greatest tragedy ever to have happened to the wizarding world_..." she said, writing down her words under the charade that they were ingenious, "ooh that _does _sound like an interesting headline..."

Ron raised his wand. She gave it a cautionary glance.

"Get off our property..." he said. "I don't know how you got in, but you're getting out right this second..."

"Or what?" she asked. I noticed, with a somewhat satisfying feeling, that there was some fear in her eyes.

"I'm a bloody Auror, Skeeter. Blasting crooks like you is what we do for a living..."

"Auror, are you? I'd think that would be more your career, Harry..."

"It _is_ my career too. Got a problem with that?"

"No, no problem. It seems rather fitting for such a character. The boy who killed You-Know-Who would naturally take up the position of a dark wizard catcher...ooh, wait to the fans hear this..."

"Skeeter! What the hell are you doing here?" came a furious voice from behind me. It was Hermione, already livid from the mere site of her, with a clothed Ginny right behind her.

"Oh the bitch is here, is she? What a surprise. Come to try and ruin my career again, missy?" snapped Skeeter.

"What did you call me?" screeched Hermione, pulling her wand out from the pocket of her jeans.

"Same old attitude then..." said Skeeter, frowning.

"I will tell everyone about your secret, you old hag, you know that!" said Hermione furiously.

"Really? What secret is this again?" she asked, smirking arrogantly.

"Your animagus transformation-"

"Yes, I'll have to stop you right there, my dear girl. You see, I've had the ability removed."

"R-Removed?" stammered Hermione. "That's not possible..."

"It's very possible..."

"You're bluffing..." said Ron.

"Really? Well, you could always due the Cordon Spell to force me into my animagus form if you want proof, although nothing will happen..."

"Fine, Skeeter! _Cordonia_!" said Hermione, wand aloof.

Just as Skeeter predicted, nothing happened. Hermione looked on dumbfounded, and tried the spell again to no avail. We had to conclude that Skeeter had been telling the truth.

"Why?" I demanded. "Why would remove your most useful method of spying on people?"

"Simple answer, Harry. I've got new skills to help me eavesdrop into any pot of juicy news..."

"Is that how you got through those barriers?"

"Oh, yes. You see, those barriers have a major weakpoint. Sure, they'll keep out any remaining Death Eater, but they wont keep out little old me..."

"You horrible bitch, can't you just stay out of other peoples' business!" demanded Ginny, stepping forward.

Skeeter grinned at the sight of her, as if she had just uncovered the story of a lifetime.

"Here she is, the charming girlfriend of our saviour, ooh you are quite the topic Miss Weasley. I would happily bet all my money at Gringotts that you're the envy of most girls in the country, my dear, thanks to the most special boy you have over there..."

"Fuck off you old hag!" snapped Ginny.

"Ooh, I'd watch her if I were you, Harry. She's quite the feisty one..."

"Leave her alone..." I said, and Skeeter raised her thin eyebrows. "I saw that disgusting article you wrote about her last month. What gives you the right to be so cruel?"

"Freedom of press, Harry, as you mentioned earlier. By the rights granted to me through the Wizarding Bill of Liberties and Responsibilities, circa 1813, I'm fully entitled to write articles about people however I want..."

"That same convention states that any such article should always be truthful..." snapped Hermione.

"And they are truthful. Just opinionated..."

She gave us all another devilish grin.

"Why so serious guys?"

None of us spoke, but Hermione looked like she was getting angrier and angrier with every passing second.

"Fine, I know when I'm not wanted..." she said with another conceited smile, and turned away from them.

"You're going?" asked Ron, lowering his wand slightly.

"Of course, isn't that what you wanted me to do since I got here?"

"Then leave, Skeeter! Do us all a favour!" shouted Hermione.

"All right, I'm out of here. But I'll be keeping a close eye on all of you, especially you, Harry..."

With that, and a devilish wink, she disapparated on the spot.

"How did she do that? There are fortifications preventing apparition all around the Burrow!" asked Hermione, astounded.

"Maybe she's part goblin. They have their own method of apparition..."

"She certainly acts like a goblin..." I said.

"You got that right..." said Ginny. "She gets under my fucking skin...and that horrible smile she has..."

"I know..." I said. "Makes you wanna curse her..."

"Damn it, we should have done that whilst we had the chance, Harry..." said Ron.

"Oh let's just forget her. We shouldn't let that women ruin this beautiful day..." said Hermione.

"Speaking of this very beautiful day, does anyone want to do anything?" asked Ginny.

"Quidditch?" suggested Ron, but Ginny shook her head.

"Dad's sold them all, remember. The new ones are coming next week..."

"Oh yeah..."

"We could go down to the riverside, like we did last week..." I suggested. That had been a great day out, just the four of us being as lazy as possible down by the Tamar, throwing stones across the river and making out against the oak trees. The only bad thing was that taking two Weasley's out for a whole day without any food is pretty much suicide. Ginny got cranky (which later manifested itself somehow into horniness) and Ron ended up face-first in the river after 'accidentally' stepping on Hermione's foot.

"Yeah, that sounds great Harry..." said Ron.

"But, and I think Hermione will agree with me, we should bring lots of food..."

"Oh, definitely..." said Hermione, with a look at Ron. "We don't want Ron dunked in the river again, do we?"

"I might..." said Ginny.

"Girls, girls, let's be reasonable here!"

"Better watch your step, Ron..." said Ginny devilishly.

"Harry, control your girlfriend!"

"She's your sister, mate!"

"Harry!"

The girls giggled at Ron's cautious anxiety.

"Come on guys, let's rustle up some food. Keep the Weasley's at bay..." I said, and we walked back into the house hoping that Molly would be kind and generous enough to make us a picnic.

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes later, after Ron and I had been forced to make all the food ourselves, we headed out down the Hyacinth Path, a small footway which lead directly to the river. The path intertwined itself throughout bracken and foliage, the pungent smell of it causing Hermione to sneeze every few seconds.<p>

"Hermione!" reprimanded Ron after he umpteenth sneeze.

"I can't help it!" said Hermione nasally.

Soon they reached the stillness and tranquillity of their favourite spot, a small stretch of land carved where the river meandered through the field. It was sheltered by talk oaks and cedars, where the sunlight would sparkle through the high leaves like diamonds.

"Ah, this is the life..." said Ron happily, flumping down on the cool grass beneath one of the trees.

"Certainly is..." I said, putting the picnic basket next to him. "Don't eat anything yet, Ron..."

"Try and stop me..." he said, putting his hand in.

"Hey! Don't let me use Levicorpus!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, Weasley..."

"Fine, fine, I'll wait..." he said grumpily.

Ginny settled herself by the tree, laying back and pulling her hair out of her eyes. She smiled at me, and I beckoned towards her, sitting down next to her with my hand on my lap.

"This is beautiful, even more than last time..." she whispered, and kissed me.

"I'm just glad we've finally got some privacy..." I said. "Especially after the incident this morning..."

"Yeah, it's great to be alone...for once..." she said, and nuzzled me.

"Oi, you two! Don't get feisty over there, last time you two got really carried away!"

"Harry only got shirtless, I don't see what the problem was..." said Ginny.

"What is someone saw you? What is _Skeeter _saw you? She'd have a field day!"

"Well, relax, no one did see us. We're completely cut off from civilisation out here..." said Ginny.

"I so want to mention the ruler and gaffer tape right now..." I murmured quietly. She giggled, whilst he looked on suspiciously.

"Don't, he has no idea we know..."

"Ooh, the look on his would be priceless..."

She laughed again.

"No, and that's an order Potter..." she quipped.

"What are you two talking about?"

"Oh nothing...just a variety of office stationary..."

"What the fuck?"

Hermione, sitting behind Ron, looked at me with a very clear expression of 'shut the fuck up now'.

"Oh nothing..." I said, smirking. Ron looked completely bemused.

"Errrr...can we eat now?" asked Ron hopefully.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Fine, seeing as you made it, you can have a sandwich..."

Hermione pulled one of them out of the basket, dangling it above Ron's head, like a treat to a puppy.

"Oi! Give it here!"

"Jump for it..."

"I'm not gonna jump for-"

"JUMP!"

He jumped fervently, and caught the whole thing in his mouth.

"This is so degrading..." he murmured, mouth full of ham and cheese.

"See what I said earlier..." she whispered to me whilst Hermione hovered a sausage roll above Ron's head, "Food is the key to any Weasley. And sex. Mostly sex..."

I laughed, and pulled her into a kiss which we didn't break for a very long time.

* * *

><p>"That water looks cold..." said Ginny trepidatively, pulling her socks off.<p>

"It's great..." I said, already knee type in the water. It was a little chilly, but ultimately refreshing, especially in the full glare of the sun.

"Come in, sis. I promise not to dunk you..." said Ron, washing his hands in the river (he'd eaten the best part of a chocolate gateaux, and, as a Weasley, he had made quite a mess).

"I'd fucking kill you, Ronald!" said Ginny threateningly.

"Relax, Gin, I'm only joking!"

"I'm not! I'd cut your fucking head off!"

"Oooh I'd better start running from the terror of the ginger menace! Run! Ruuuuun!" mocked Ron, pretending to do a slow motion escape through the riverbed.

"Levicorpus!" said Ginny, wand brandished, and in a second Ron had been suspended in midair by his ankle, looking thoroughly dishevelled.

"Harry! You taught her that spell!" shouted Ron.

"Sure did, mate..." I said, grinning.

"Why!"

"She's my girlfriend, you know. You can't keep any secrets from your girlfriend..."

"Now say sorry, Ron, or you'll find yourself head first in the bedrock..." said Ginny fiercely.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..."

"Good boy..."

Ginny dumped him on the ground by the nearest tree.

"I'll think I'll stay here with the food..." said Ron enthusiastically, pulling out another sausage roll.

"If you eat any of those strawberries I'll smack you one..." I said, smirking.

"Why is everyone threatening me today?" he said exasperatedly, before tucking into his food, making sure to stay well clear of the strawberries so as to avoid being flung in the air again.

"Strawberries?" asked Hermione, curiously.

"They're Ginny's favourite..."

She beamed. "You remembered?"

"Of course I've remembered. I've practically written a book in my head about you, but I'll need a whole lifetime to complete it..."

"Then a lifetime you will have..." she said adoringly.

"I think I'll call it '_The Secret Qualities of Ginny Weasley, Volume 1 of 500_'"

"I'm gonna need to make some about you..." she said. "I think the first one should be called '_How to have the best sex in the world with Harry Potter, but he's mine so everyone can only dream about the contents_.._._'"

I laughed. "And the second one?"

" '_The Perfect Boyfriend, part one of many_...'"

"You guys are really weird..." said Hermione.

Ginny snickered, holding her arms around me.

"I love you, Harry..."

"I love you too, Ginny..." I said, and gave her a soft kiss to which she responded with earnest.

"OWWW!" yelled Ron suddenly, shattering the kiss like a blow to glass.

"What?" shouted Ginny, clearly irate at having her moment spoiled.

"OWWWW, OWWW, OWWW!" said Ron. "WAS THAT YOU, GINNY?"

"I did nothing! I was too busy trying to snog my fucking boyfriend! May I ask exactly what you're accusing me of anyway?" she said angrily.

"Oww...bloody hell...if you didn't do it then who or what did?" he muttered.

"What happened Ron?" asked Hermione.

"This fucking happened!" said Ron, picking up something beside him.

We were all silenced immediately at the sight of this one mere item, a single, mere black stiletto.

"Did it fall from the tree?" I asked quietly.

"Well, I thought one of you lot conjured it and threw it at me, but I guess it could have come from the tree..."

Hermione, Ginny and I all looked up to the higher branches, as if expecting to see a monster.

But I _was_ expecting to see an actual monster...a leather skinned one with a matching handbag. How could she be here? How could she have been in the treetops all this time? I couldn't believe it, but the stiletto was too much of a clue to ignore and say was coincidence..."

I then remembered, in a heartbeat, the words she had uttered so arrogantly earlier.

"_Why?" I demanded. "Why would remove your most useful method of spying on people?"_

"_Simple answer, Harry. I've got new skills to help me eavesdrop into any pot of juicy news..."_

It all added together.

"SKEETER! OUT OF THE TREE, NOW!" I bellowed.

"Harry, what? _Skeeter_?" asked Ginny, bemused.

"The stiletto, for god's sake, she was wearing them earlier!" I shouted, pulling out my wand. "_Homenum Revelio_!" I called, and a signature gentle breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves and whistling through the air. It confirmed everything.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, who was holding the stiletto with already livid eyes at the possibility of its owner.

"Someone _is_ up there, Hermione! _Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy_!" I shouted, blast after blast of red shining light shooting through the leaves, flaring blindly for a target.

There was a scream, a massive crunching sound, and in seconds a whole branch of the tree had broken off and fallen onto the ground, a certain blonde-haired women sprawled indignantly across the grass. Hermione and Ginny tensed, whilst Ron looked on incredulously.

"Really, was that amount of force necessary?" shrieked Skeeter, standing up angrily. "You've got grass stains on my Cuir de Pull! Do you have any idea how much this thing cost?"

"You intrusive little bitch, have you been spying on us all this time?" demanded Hermione lividly.

"Well you make it very easy for people like me to do so, you know. Hiking on up here, to an area where there are many places to hide and...eavesdrop..."

"How could you be in that tree without us noticing you?" I shouted.

"Easy. It's a combination of your ignorance and some of my finer skills. Not wanting to blow my own trumpet, but I could be right in front of you and you'd never be able to see me with what I've learnt..."

"You're sick!" shouted Ginny, completely irate, "This is _our_ time together, you have NO right to spy on what we do, you cow!"

"Ooh, still not very friendly. Even after that sentimental crap you spewed out about those maudlin books you so want to write about each other...honestly, how soppy can you get?"

A look of shock dawned on Ginny's face, followed by one of intense loathing.

"Books?" asked Ron, dumbfounded. "Do you wanna be an author or something?"

Skeeter laughed. "I'm guessing you're out of the loop, boy..."

"What do you mean?" demanded Ron.

"It seems in this mere afternoon I've learnt more about your sister's relationship than you have in three months..."

"What?" asked Ron.

"What was that book title you mentioned, deary..." said Skeeter maliciously to Ginny, "Wasn't it '_How to have the best sex in the world with Harry Potter_'?"

Ron turned to look at us, looking shocked, stunned and angry all at once.

"You two...have...have you?" he asked quietly.

Ginny and I looked at each other, whilst Skeeter watched on, enjoying the scene with sadistically savouring eyes, and I answered him truthfully.

"Yes, Ron..." I said, quietly. He looked at me, something different in his eyes, perhaps a solemn mixture of sadness and anger, but whatever it was I couldn't fathom.

"Ooh, this is quite the newstory..." said Skeeter. "Potter, the sex mad saviour, now that _is _a headline..."

Hermione was speechless at her callousness, her eyes sparkling with fresh ferocity which I hoped was going to manifest itself out of her wand, for she could hex people like no other person I knew.

But someone else got there first.

"Levicorpus!" shouted Ron, and in seconds Skeeter was dangling by her ankle, the other stiletto toppling off into the river with a plop. She screamed, squirming around in mid-air, trying to break free.

"Put me down this instance! This is improper conduct, practically assault, I could have you arrested, boy!"

"Haven't you forgotten, Rita?" shouted Ron angrily. "We are the law!"

He threw her into the river with purposeful force, creating a gigantic shrieking splash. She thrashed in the river like a wild animal, ultimately surfacing, albeit bitterly, spluttering and muttering incomprehensible insults at all of us.

We all laughed as she broke towards the bank, sopping wet and furious, her hideous locks sodden with mildew and algae.

"Do you think you've outsmarted me?" she asked, suddenly grinning.

"Certainly..." said Ron.

"Well, guess again you little bastard! Oh Clive!" shouted Skeeter, waving across the river.

The smiles were collectively wiped from our faces when we saw, hidden deep in the bushes on the other side, the unmistakable sight of a camera lens angled directly towards where we were sitting. A man hopped up from behind it, grinning victoriously, and then disapparated with a puff of smoke.

"Bye, kiddies!" said Skeeter victoriously. "I think tomorrows _Prophet _is set to be very interesting, wouldn't you think?"

With that, and another frantic grin, she disapparated like her colleague, leaving only her stilettos and a light trail of water.

"THAT BITCH!" screamed Hermione. "This is absolutely outrageous, even for her!"

"I know, but there's nothing that we can do now..." said Ron, arms folded, "I guess that, in the future, we just need to be more careful..."

"But we can't let her get away with this!" said Ginny. "She has no right to do this!"

"Freedom of press..." I said bitterly. "She has every right..."

"Maybe so, but does she have freedom of espionage?"

"I wouldn't go as far as to call it that-"

"I would! She eavesdropped from above us _and _took pictures! This is a violation of our own freedom!"

"Gin, calm down..." I urged quietly.

"I will not calm down, Harry! That bitch doesn't understand what you've been through, to treat you like this! She needs to be put in her fucking place!"

She looked up at me, her eyes full of fire and brimstone, her hands placed zealously on my arms.

"Another day, probably in the Autumn, I'll take up the case when I'm a certified Auror. But, for now, let's just try not to think about her..."

"How can I not think about her when she could be anywhere?" she demanded.

"She's too busy celebrating her 'victory' right now. For the time being, I think we're finally alone..."

She buried her head in my chest.

"We're never alone! There's always someone who ruins our privacy!" she said, looking up at me, her eyes watering.

"It seems that you two have had quite a lot of privacy anyway..." said Ron quietly.

"Ron..." I said, hoping for an explanation to come pouring out of my mouth, but nothing came but resultant silence. He looked at me expectantly, his eyes now clearly expressing disappointment.

"She's sixteen, Harry..." said Ron. I had never seen him so serious, not even in the Battle of Hogwarts. I said nothing; I couldn't respond to his aura.

"Ron, this isn't your business..." said Hermione quietly, tugging lightly on his arm.

Now it was Ron's turn not to say anything, only giving blank stares to the pair of us.

"Come on..." said Hermione anxiously. "I think we should get back to the Burrow..."

"Yeah..." muttered Ron. "Let's go..."

He set off in front of all us, even his girlfriend. Ginny and I exchanged nervous glares, before following on in his wake in silence.

* * *

><p>A half-hour later, Ginny and I were cooped up in her bedroom, solemnly reminiscing over the dramatic events of that afternoon. Ron, who had retained his silence throughout the journey back, had gone off with Hermione before I even had the chance to have a proper talk with him, away from the prying ears of that disgusting reporter.<p>

"I was going to tell him anyway, but in private, just the two of us..." I said quietly, Ginny curled up at my side. "This isn't how I imagined it would happen..."

"I'm surprised he didn't lash out at you. Last time you did something remotely sexual in front of him, he wrestled you to the floor..."

"Maybe he didn't want to make a scene in front of that old hag..."

"Then why didn't he do so when we got back here?"

"I don't know. I just hope he's gonna be okay with it..."

"Did you see his face?"

"Yeah, but I'd think that Hermione will put some sense into him..." I said optimistically.

"Good point. She has a knack at doing that. Of course, he is her lapdog..."

"Yeah. She'll just promise him some sex and he'll forget about us ever having it..."

She moved closer to me, so close that I could count each and every one of her light, auburn eyelashes. She was looking at me intuitively, and curiously, her rich brown eyes trying to see through my green ones.

"You don't regret it, do you?" she asked, very quietly.

I remembered my earlier thoughts, and I answered her in seconds without a shadow of a doubt.

"Never..." I said softly.

She smiled, and kissed me gently.

"Me neither..."

"I just didn't want it to become front-page news..." I said. "I'm really sorry..."

"For what?" she asked, frowning.

"Putting you in this situation..."

"Harry, I don't care what Skeeter does to me. I only care what she does to you and my friends. If she ever insulted you, I would absolutely kill her. No one will _ever _hurt my boyfriend again..."

I was touched, even more so to see the sincerity of her words resound deeply in the wells of her eyes. The only words that I could speak in response were the three little words which brought joy to both our hearts, the words I felt I would never speak again, yet now I could climb the tallest mountain and shout my proclamation to her on the high winds, knowing, somehow, she would hear it.

But there was no need for high winds, for my mere breath could convey my message to her.

"I love you..."

She smiled.

"I love you, too..." she whispered, playing daintily with my hair.

"I wish we could have more time like this, but, like you said, we always seem to be interrupted..." I said.

"I know..."

"It'd be good to get out of here, get away from Skeeter completely..." I said.

"We could, you know..." she said, an idea forming on her lips.

"How do you mean?"

"We could go on a holiday, of course..."

"A holiday? Aren't we on holiday already?"

"I mean like a true holiday somewhere, maybe to France or the United States..."

"A holiday, yeah...that actually sounds like a really great idea..."

"Why thank you..." she said, grinning.

"But maybe not abroad. That takes a fuck load of preparation, I remember from when my Uncle and Aunt used to arrange holidays to Cyprus, without me of course. They had to book it all the way back in March..."

"Well, we don't have to go abroad. We can to the coast, or to a city..."

"Wait, that still requires some planning Gin..."

"Less than a holiday abroad, I would think..."

"Yeah, true...but..."

"Come on, Harry. I'm starting to really like this idea! We can get away from Skeeter and just enjoy ourselves in a new place..."

"It sounds interesting, really, but it just seems too much..."

"We could go with Ron and Hermione, we could all get away..."

"Do you think Ron would want to go with us after all that's happened today?"

"Like you said, Hermione should make him see sense and I'm sure he'll be just as eager as us to get away from the journalists..."

I didn't say anything in response. The prospect of a holiday sounded quite interesting, it really did, mainly because I'd never gone a holiday before and, now that I was free, I kind of wanted to experience the things that fate had never allowed me to do, but the prospect still sounded rather daunting. A holiday? How would we even arrange that? We'd need a car, places to stay and places to eat, it all sounded so complicated!

"I'll think about it, certainly..." I said ultimately. She seemed pleased enough with that.

A subsequent knock on the door shook us both out of the idea of a holiday and back onto the thoughts of that afternoon, as I knew, practically instantly, whom the person knocking was. You see, I knew two crucial facts about this person. One, I know the person's character off-by-heart, and, two, I happen to know that this person always knocks like that. It's amazing what you learn about people when you set aside the time to watch them.

"Umm...come in..." I said quietly.

"Harry...hi..." said Ron sheepishly, stepping inside.

"Hi, Ron..." I said awkwardly.

"Er...can I have a private chat with you, if you don't mind?"

"Er, sure, yeah..." I said, with a quick glance at Ginny, who smiled curiously.

I left her room with him and we headed out into the landing, our footsteps rather heavy on the wooden floor, where, after a moderate distance from Ginny's room, he stopped and looked me directly in the eye. It was moments like this which really exhibited our friendship and the ability that we shared which allowed us to talk freely and universally, and it was a prime reason why I valued his friendship so much, and how I hoped his next few words would not be detrimental to our almost brotherly bond.

"I'm sorry how I acted earlier. Hermione made me realize how much you two really feel about each other, but you have to understand that it did come as a surprise to me, especially from the mouth of that horrible bitch." he said quietly, the emotion of his words resounding in his eyes.

"It's ok, Ron. I just hope you're truly ok with it. You are, right?" I asked, relieved, but eager to hear more.

"There's always gonna be this part of me which wants to protect Gin, but I really should know by now that you can do better than I ever could. I can't say that I completely approve of it, but if you both are happy, then that's good enough for me..."

"Thanks, Ron. That means the world to me."

"Really?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Of course. I knew I had to tell you sometime about it, but I was so worried about how you'd react."

"You should have worried more about how Bill and my mum will react..."

"I'll face that when it comes. For the time being, I'd like them not to know."

"Ok, Harry. I just hope that you're gonna prepare for this explosion, because, believe me, it's gonna go off with one fuck of a bang."

"Nevermind about that. Something a bit more interesting has come up, and I want to get your opinion on it..."

"What?"

"An idea."

"For what?"

"A holiday..."

"A holiday?"

"A holiday..."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want..."

"The Playboy Mansion?"

"Ron, that's not a holiday, that's just a brothel..."

"Sounds like a holiday to me..."

"Shut it, what if Hermione was listening?"

"She'd been fine with a three-way..."

"Ron! Back to the point, ok?" I said, trying to keep all images of what he just said out of my mind.

"Ok, ok. Well, it sounds interesting, I suppose..."

"Ginny suggested it, so we can get away from Skeeter for a while. I wasn't too sure about the whole thing, but if you and Hermione are game, I think I'll be up for it..."

"Yeah, I'd think Hermione would like that..."

"Can you tell her about it, and tell me what she says at dinner?"

"Sure, mate, but you might as well just buy her ticket in advance; she'll love the idea."

"Hey, hey, let's not jump the gun here. This is all hypothetical...idea testing, stuff...make sure to say it's an idea, we're not necessarily doing it..."

"Ok, ok, keep your shirt on. No, literally, keep your shirt on, no matter how tempting Ginny is tonight..."

"Yeah, yeah...we'll see..." I said, grinning.

* * *

><p>Dinner was preceded by a heavenly chorus of delicious smells emanating from the kitchen, reminding me of the nostalgic feasts at Hogwarts. I was sitting on Ginny's bed, watching the glorious sunset dance on the horizon. Ginny's already auburn room looked even more orange in the fiery light, and Ginny looked absolutely stunning as she bumbled around the room trying to get ready, her hair glowing and her eyes sparkling.<p>

I made my mind up then, that sunrise and sunset were my favourite times of the day, simply for the mundane reason of watching her in her utmost beauty.

"Harry, are you staring?" she asked, looking intrigued.

"How can I not?" I said, almost trance-like.

She laughed, putting her earrings on.

"Must you get _this _ready for dinner?" I asked. She had been getting ready for almost twenty minutes.

"Of course I have to get this ready! This is our first dinner with my parents in a long time, I can't just show up in a tank top!"

"Sure you can...plus it would give me a nice view of your-"

"Shut it, Potter. Wait 'till later!" she said, mockingly rolling her eyes.

"I was going to say shoulders, but, hey, you were the one to assume I meant _that_...dirty girl..."

"Shut up, Potter, don't let me Levicorpus you out the window..."

"You wouldn't dare..."

"May I remind you of earlier..."

"Ok, ok, you would dare. Sheesh, I regret ever telling you that spell..."

"Well, like you said so correctly earlier, you can't keep anything from your girlfriend!"

"Unless it compromises the safety of the boyfriend..." I said.

She laughed. "Is this some rule?"

"Nah, it's the fine-print of the boyfriend-girlfriend contract..."

"Cute. A metaphorical analogy, that has romance stamped all over it..."

"I knew you'd find it sexy..."

"I don't find it remotely sexy!"

"Yes you do, you've got that face!"

"What face?"

"That 'he's so sexy' face!"

"This is my normal face..."

"Yes it is..."

"Oh shut up..."

"Harry, it's so nice to have you for dinner again!" said Molly. It looked like the events of the morning were well gone from her mind. That, or she had had too much cooking sherry.

"How could I pass this up when everything smells so delicious?" I said.

"Oooh, as charming as ever, my dear boy. That's an extra chop for you..."

"Thanks, Molly..." I said, laughing.

"Park yourself anywhere boy, I'll just fetch the apples..."

Yup, definitely too much sherry.

"So, Harry. I heard you bumped into Rita Skeeter today..." said Arthur, already sitting down. Ron was sitting right next to him, joking with George and Charlie about what appeared to be a rather far-fetched tale of how he had humiliated Skeeter with his Levicorpus spell.

"Yeah...well, if you can call it bumping. I call it damn right spying..." I said seriously.

"Oh yeah, she's becoming one hell of a sleuth. She single-handedly infiltrated the Department for Magical Law Enforcement to gain access to files on Minister Shacklebolt, so as to create a political scandal..."

"When did she do this?"

"A couple of hours ago, apparently. Busy schedule for her, spying on teenagers for a story, then sneaking into the Ministry of Magic for another story...it's just ridiculous..."

"Did she get arrested?"

"You know we can't arrest anyone yet. There's no place to hold them, what with Azkaban destroyed..."

"Doesn't anyone know what caused that yet?"

"No, but we do have several promising leads which indicate it might have been an exploding lone Dementor.."

"Lovely..."

"Quite. But, anyway, Skeeter was, unfortunately, released, but we made sure that any gossip she may have uncovered will not be published for some time..."

"Really?" I said, absolutely intrigued. Could this mean her dirt on Ginny and I was going to be blocked?

"Oh yes. The Minister made quite a good excuse to shut the Prophet down for a whole week..."

"What was the excuse?"

"That their weather reports were always wrong..."

I laughed. "Great man..."

"He sure is..."

"Dinner is served!" chimed Molly in a grandeur voice, rosy cheeked. It's no wonder that Ginny gets plastered so easily with genes from such a tipsy mother...

Plates then appeared out of nowhere on the table, and in a second the plates were suddenly full of lamb chops, potatoes, carrots, broccoli, gravy, spinach and peas; it all looked delicious.

"Harry, Ron told me about this holiday idea you had..." said Hermione slowly, opposite me, after the table had begun to eat and sparring conversations were being made.

"Well technically it was Ginny's idea..." I said when I felt a small tug on my leg.

"All right, Ron told me about _Ginny's_ suggestion, but, I have to say, I really like the idea..."

"Thank you..." said Ginny, grinning.

"Ron said you would..." I stated. Hermione looked down towards the end of the table where Ron was laughing at some joke George had made about a Hungarian vampire; she smiled tenderly.

"Well, if everyone's for it, then I think we should definitely go..." I said, smiling.

"Go? Go where?" asked Mrs Weasley curiously. Her interjection caused half the table to fall silent.

"Oh...er...we were thinking of taking a short holiday, together. Just Ginny, Ron, Hermione and I..." I said awkwardly.

"A-A holiday?" asked Molly, sounding a little perturbed.

"Um...yeah, probably to a city or the seaside..." said Ginny, immediately on the defensive.

"Right..." said Molly quietly.

"For how long?" asked Bill, looking suddenly sharp.

"About a week, probably. We don't know yet...we haven't planned anything..."

"I see..." said Molly, looking down at her plate, her lips pursed.

Silence fell at the table for what felt like an eternity, until Bill broke it like a hammer to glass.

"You guys can't be serious, right?" he said, incredulously.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron, taken aback.

"You'll be putting yourselves in danger. There are Death Eaters still out there, you know! "

"I'm more concerned about Skeeter than Death Eaters, Bill," said Ginny. "Hence why we'd like a break from it all..."

"There's a major difference in motives there, Ginny; one wants to spy on you, the others want to kill you!"

"Harry and I are Aurors, Bill, I think we can take care of safety!" exclaimed Ron angrily.

"Hardly_ certified_ Aurors, are you? You're junior Aurors, nothing more..."

"We can still do our job just fine! Also, if you haven't noticed, we happen to have a legendary dark wizard killer with us, so I think we'll be just fine!" said Ron harshly.

"Stop, arguing guys! Jeez!" said George exasperatedly. "If they want to go on a holiday, let them go on a bloody holiday!"

"George! Do you know how dangerous a holiday would be for people around Harry?"

"Well, this is Harry Potter we're talking about. How about we cut him a bit of slack and give him a bit of fun?" said George.

"This isn't exactly the best time for it!" said Bill. "We're rebuilding a broken society here! The Trace has failed nationwide, magic cannot be detected anywhere, even in front of Muggles, so we can't detect any dark magic at all! The Death Eaters could be anywhere!"

"Life's too short..." said George sadly. "Go on that holiday, guys. You all really need it..."

"Definitely..." said Ron, whilst Bill scowled. "Now all we have to do is settle on a place to go..."

"I know the perfect place for you guys..." said Arthur quietly. Everybody fell curiously silent again, everyone looking at him. "There's this wonderful place down in Cornwall called Sun Valley. Molly and I went there for our thirtieth Anniversary not too long ago, and it was a truly wonderful place..."

"What kind of a holiday was it?" I asked curiously.

"A caravan holiday, and a road trip. Sun Valley is a big sheltered copse full of caravans, and Molly and I booked one for the trip. Really fun place to stay, and the surrounding towns and countryside were just plain beautiful. I hear a lot of people down in the village say how Devon and Cornwall are exactly the same, but they're completely different in terms of character..."

"That sounds like a perfect place to go..." said Ginny.

"It was a very peaceful place, most certainly..." said Molly quietly.

"Sun Valley..." I whispered. "It certainly sounds really nice..."

"I think we've got our destination!" said Ron eagerly.

Hermione grinned. "Yeah, I think we do..."

Although basing our decision purely on the anecdote of Arthur Weasley, we had already come to the conclusion that Sun Valley would be our place of refuge. Although I knew that over the next few days planning and preparation would be key, I felt warm inside at the prospect of this holiday. A chance to get away from Skeeter was like a chance to get away from all the evil in the world. Maybe we shouldn't have jumped to the decision so hastily, but I knew we were all so eager to get away, that the first mentioning of a perfect place had gotten us all fervently excited to go there.

But, personally, it didn't matter what Sun Valley was like in actuality providing that I could get there with Ginny, as any trip without her would be like taking the sun away. She'd be the sun of that valley, that I did know.

As I sat there, talking enthusiastically to Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Arthur, whilst Bill shook his head in exasperation, I felt something being born in our collective zeal, and that, I now know, was our future.

* * *

><p>"Ooh...'Sun Valley' eh?" whispered a blonde haired women maliciously from her hiding spot. "Now this <em>does <em>sound interesting...oh yes it does...CLIVE!"

"Er...yes, Miss Skeeter, mam?" said the man feebly.

"I think we're gonna go on a little trip, deary...a trip to the scoop of the century...ooh I can't wait!"

**This is the first chapter of a planned series of seven. Hope you liked it!**


End file.
